[Royce Da 5'9"]
Fresh off the jet from just fucking with Puff
I'm feeling like the best, nobody... bring it back
Fresh off the jet from just fucking with Puff
I'm feeling like the best, nobody fucking with us
We done turned to a bygone done crew
We got this in a commorral like Tzai Man Han Tzu
Like top criminal, live by the code we call shush
Fireman ladder flow, look at it, my bar is up
As you can see I'm a beast on a track
I'm even worse, I'm the hearse with a reef on the back
I'm like the gun at the race son you only get one shot
My album is the finish line, here's where your run stops
Bout to go fishing with a clip that's extended
'Cause your mama got a glass eye with a fish in it

[Royce Da 5'9"]
I get money, I get bitches, I get broader
Bring it back, I get bitches, I get money, no specific order
Filthy hit recorder, ?? Ricky mixed with Richard Porter
Butcher Jones mixed with Mr. Combs with the Tookie aura
I'm a muhfucka, nah really, I fuck mothers
I chug bottles and pass out on their lazy boy
You tryin' to leave them little niglettes with me?
Sheeit - I treat 'em all like I'm Snoop Dogg in Baby Boy
Leave me alone, I'm Hancock
Liquor store closed, I'm swoopin' 'round hitting the second hand spot
I don't fuck with no hoe unless she a danc-er
There's no position, drug or liquor she can't try
I'm can't tie, me versus them is a landslide
If your face is fly and your body is decent
This your inauguration, the same time your impeachment
I got a lot of anger I was high before your first shit
Not your album but before your momma potty trained ya

[Chorus]

[Kid Vishis]
When my soldiers attack, it's a wrap
Hold up, when my soldiers attack, it's a wrap
one clap will lay you unconscious
Bullets alfa-mega slap you
Cock grenade here, think we scared no way
Set your ass up like the cops did O.J
Fo spray his body make his chest explode
The barrel on the shotty wide as KRS's nose (Parker)
Buck shot-ya, rap like an automatic gun lung stopper
Means you cant breath proper (Yeah)
Their like im on some other shit
Whole clique hold heat like an oven mitt
To fuck wit this you want me on wax
So I’m tax you little local rappers worse than the government
Bastard, the closest you niggas been to a shotgun is in the car front seat passenger
How about you take a trip in the trunk
Ride to a pastor for a casket to hold-you, it's over